


Playing with Fire

by abswrites



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Death, Detectives, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gun Violence, Illegal Activities, Murder Mystery, Reader-Insert, Romance, Secret Identity, Sexual Tension, Undercover Missions, Violence, no beta we die like the survey corps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abswrites/pseuds/abswrites
Summary: Your mission is simple – go undercover, infiltrate the largest crime syndicate in the city, and find out who exactly is behind the recent string of murders. Getting involved with the leader of the Jaegerists is not part of the plan.
Relationships: Eren Yeager/Reader
Comments: 37
Kudos: 137





	1. Into the Inferno

**Author's Note:**

> whaddup readers, it's me, ya girl, back again with another eren fic. this is literally just an excuse for me to write eren as a sexy mob boss
> 
> a disclaimer: I have never been in a gang nor do I know anyone who has, so all information in this story is either from google or my own imagination
> 
> also, if you're interested here's the [fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2M91Zq9v7x2nDeVmb8ojbY?si=2Oyfbeh4SLe6ekOlsVN4Kw)
> 
> enjoy! :)

Another body was found last night. 

You sigh heavily, turning the radio volume down. This was already the fourth body found this month. Turning into the parking lot, you shut off the engine, leaning your head down on the steering wheel. It seems like no matter where you go, you can’t escape the horrific news.

After a moment, you get out of the car, heading inside the building. The Smith Detective Agency is one of the finest in the country, only emphasized by the hustle and bustle of all the employees that surrounds you as you enter. Unfortunately, that prestige doesn’t seem to extend to you.

Graduating top of your class at the academy has managed to get you a job here, but little else. Your cubicle sits in the very corner of the building, and most days it seems like not many people know you exist back here. It doesn’t bother you much, though. At least it gives you a chance to get through the large mountain of paperwork on your desk.

You’d been working for a few hours when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts you. Looking up from your paperwork, you see Detective Levi standing by your desk. You’ve worked with him once or twice before, but he isn’t the type to seek you out.

“Boss wants to see you,” he says.

Your eyes widen. In all the time that you’ve worked here, you’ve seen Director Erwin Smith approximately twice. The most he had ever said to you was a cursory “good morning”.

“Uh, me? Are you sure?”

He scoffs. “Hurry up, brat.”

You were used to his harsh manner by this point. Levi was not a man you wanted to piss off, so when he starts down the hall, you stumble out of your chair and rush to follow him.

Levi leads you to the large office at the end of the hall. Knocking twice on the door, he waits for a moment before opening it.

Stepping in after him, you enter Erwin’s office, where he sits behind a large mahogany desk. “Ah, just who I wanted to see,” he says. “Sit down.”

Nervously, you lower yourself into the chair opposite him. Levi opts to lean against the wall, arms crossed. 

“What did you need me for, sir?” you ask. 

Erwin levels his gaze on you. “You’ve heard about the murders occurring recently, correct?”

You nod.

“We’ve constructed a plan to catch the assailant. We have reason to believe that the murders are related to the dealings of a large crime syndicate in this area.”

Catching your look of confusion, he continues. “We’ve discovered patterns in the signature. All the people who have died were murdered just days after they had dealings with this group or met with them.”

“A crime syndicate?” you ask.

“They’re called the Jaegerists.”

A ripple of fear goes through you. You’d heard of the name before. Rumors about them had spread through the city like wildfire for the past few years. Allegedly, they were one of the most dangerous mobs in the area, dabbling in every illegal activity known to man -- gambling, extortion, drug trafficking, you name it. It doesn’t surprise you that murder had been added to the list. One thing that does, however, is the time frame.

“Uh, sir, I thought that the Jaegerists had been operating for quite a while now. All the murders have been happening fairly recently.”

“That’s what we’re unsure about as well,” Erwin says. “We were hired by some of the families of the deceased. They would prefer to keep cops out of it, as people who deal with crime syndicates aren’t exactly innocent themselves. We aren’t paid to ask questions. You understand, don’t you?”

You nod in affirmation. Smith Detective Agency’s motto had been drilled into you since the day you were hired. Get the job done, no matter what it takes.

Erwin continues on. “There’s no doubt that the Jaegerists have killed before, but in the past, they’d ensure to keep it under wraps. Now, however, the problem is that they’re leaving the bodies in the open, on other gang’s territories. The people they’ve killed are also quite wealthy, and their legal counsels could get involved. We’re trying to avoid public unrest.”

Your brows furrow. “All due respect, sir, but what exactly does this have to do with me?”

Erwin and Levi exchange a quick glance. “Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to get close enough to the Jaegerists to understand their motives. We need someone to investigate them from a...closer vantage point,” Erwin says.

Levi makes a sound low in his throat. “Erwin, are you sure about this?” he asks. “I doubt a rookie is the right choice for the job.”

You want to be offended, but truthfully you kind of agree. The most you had done was track down a missing kid. Most of your days were spent filing paperwork. You’re nothing more than a glorified intern, you know that, so why exactly are you being chosen for this?

“Levi, enough,” Erwin says sternly. “Anyone else would stand out too much. We need someone new, someone relatively unknown.” He turns back to face you. “You’re the best choice to go undercover.”

You understand what he doesn’t say. Everyone else is too valuable to use. You’re expendable. You’ve heard whispered rumors and scoffed remarks of Director Smith being a betting man. Seems like they’re more than a little true. 

“What exactly are you asking me to do, sir?” you ask.

“Join the Jaegerists, and investigate both their group and any outsiders that they come in contact with. Those people are the most likely to be found dead next.”

“What information do we have on them?”

Erwin exchanges another glance with Levi. By their reactions, you’re beginning to feel like you’re being thrown to the sharks. “Not much,” Erwin admits. “Despite our best efforts, we haven’t gotten anywhere close to them. This is our last chance to investigate them. We’ve spent far too much time and resources on them. If we don’t find anything this time, we never will.” He raises his thick eyebrows, looking at you expectantly. “So, what do you say?”

You aren’t an idiot. You’ve heard rumors of the Jaegerists and what they are capable of. This has the potential to end very badly for you. However, it could also be good. You’ve been working at the agency for six months, and you had accepted your position at the bottom of the corporate ladder. A job this big could change your career. 

Swallowing heavily, you look at Erwin. “I’ll do it.”

He nods in approval. “All right, Detectives Levi and Hange will brief you on the details of your mission. Hange’s waiting for you downstairs in the coroner’s office.”

“Come on, brat,” Levi says, pushing off the wall. As you get up to follow him, you risk a glance back at Director Smith, hoping for a reassuring look, something to put your nerves at ease. 

You don’t get it. 

* * *

You’ve met Hange before, but only in passing -- greetings were exchanged occasionally in the hallway and in the staff room over coffee. You had heard about their extraordinary prowess. Hange and Levi were both top-ranked detectives, having solved a record number of cases for the department. 

Not for the first time, you wonder if Director Smith had the right idea of choosing you.

“Ah, welcome,” Hange calls as you and Levi step into the coroner’s office. “Glad to see you’ve graced me with a visit.”

“Shut up, four-eyes,” Levi grumbles. “Just tell us what we need to know about the body and we’ll go.”

Ignoring him, Hange’s gaze flits over to you, eyes glinting behind their thick lenses. “Huh,” they say, “so I take it Erwin’s going ahead with his plan?”

Levi nods. “Don’t know why he thinks it’ll work, but yeah.”

Your apprehension must be showing on your face because Hange’s quick to reassure you. “Don’t worry, rookie! It’s not that bad. Levi here’s been on tons of undercover missions, and he’s still alive!”

Somehow, that doesn’t give you much reassurance. 

“Now, c’mere,” they wave you over to the metal table. What you assume is the most recent body found is laying on it, covered by a thin white sheet.

“So what’s the story with this guy?” Levi asks.

Leaning behind them, Hange grabs a clipboard. “His name’s Dimo Reeves,” they read off.

“Reeves, like the CEO of Reeves Industries?”

“The very same,” they confirm. “Cause of death seems to be pretty simple. A bullet was lodged in his skull. His body was found in the gutters on the edge of town late last night.”

“Cameras?”

“Nope,” Hange says, “Erwin said all the footage in the area was destroyed.”

“Wait,” you say, and they both turn to look at you. “Sorry, but how do you know the Jaegerists are involved?”

“We got an informant,” Levi says. “Flegel Reeves, this fucker’s son,” he gestures to the covered body. “Came in last week, shit-scared, yapping about how his old man was doin’ dealings with the Jaegerists. We couldn’t find any evidence, so we sent him off. And now, his dad’s dead. Seems like a little more than probable cause if you ask me.”

“All the other bodies were in similar situations,” Hange continues. “All killed the same way, dumped in the same spot, and they all had been involved with the Jaegerists before their deaths.”

You frown. “Did this guy, Flegel, say anything else about them?” The last thing you want to do is go into this blind. The more information you can get, the better.

“He gave us the place they operate out of. A bar down on 5th street.”

“You know where they are?” you ask incredulously. “So why can’t we just, I don’t know, go storm the place?”

Levi and Hange exchange a dark look. “It isn’t that easy, rookie,” Levi spits.

“What he means is, these guys are good,” Hange says. “And I mean good. It’s impossible to find any evidence against them. They’ve got state-of-the-art everything. Hackers, weapons, a shit-ton of money. That’s why your mission is so important -- the only way we can get ‘em is from the inside.”

You nod slowly, processing. “Alright, so what exactly am I gonna be doing?”

“Pretty simple, actually,” Hange says. “You gotta infiltrate the group, find out who exactly they’re meeting with and look for clues about the murders, and find a way to get to the leader of the group.”

“The leader? What do we know about them?”

Hange purses their lips. “We have no clue. We don’t have information on any of the members.”

Indignation rises up within you. “So you’re sending me on a mission into the most dangerous crime syndicate in the area, with no information, no backup, and no leads?”

If possible, Levi looks even angrier than you feel. “Look, brat, we’re not happy about this either. Don’t ask me what the fuck Erwin was thinking, because I have no idea. As soon as rich people started showing up dead, that’s when shit hit the fan. People will do whatever they can to have this covered up, and all we can do is follow the orders we’re given. Don’t, and you lose your job.”

Hange jumps in. “You won’t be completely alone. Levi and I will keep finding ways to contact you so that you can update us whenever you find any new information.”

At least these two seem to be on your side. Fine. If that’s what it takes, you’ll do it. Get the job done, right? You’ll show Director Smith that you aren’t just a pawn to be played with.

You’re about to become the newest member of the Jaegerists.


	2. In Hot Water

Your eyes take a few moments to adjust to the dim light of the bar.

The air is filled with the scent of cigar smoke, far too expensive for your meager salary. When they had told you the meeting place was a bar, you had expected somewhere seedy and run down. This place seems high-class -- the kind of place rich CEOs came after work to wind down. Not exactly where you would have guessed a mob would be operating out of, but you suppose that’s the appeal of the place.

It’s perhaps a bit too early in the evening for drinking. Only a few patrons are inside, mostly keeping to themselves. They don’t even look your way as you head for a stool at the bar counter.

Might as well blend in while you look around. 

Flagging down the bartender, you order a cocktail. Alcohol could help you blend in, but you don’t want to overdo it. You’re essentially walking into the lion’s den -- a clear head is essential to your plan.

As he slides your drink over the counter, the man behind the bar busies himself with wiping down a glass. “I haven’t seen you in here before,” he says, glancing up at you. “You new in town?”

“Something like that,” you reply, shrugging. “Just passing through, I guess.”

He lifts a brow. “Odd place to pass through,” he comments, running a hand over his undercut.

This is your chance. You sit up, recalling the words Levi had told you. “I’m looking for something. I heard this was the place to find it.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

You meet his gaze. “Freedom.”

His eyes light up in understanding. “Wait here,” he says, slipping out from behind the bar. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him head over to a corner table where a man and woman are sitting together in a booth. He whispers something to them, pointing in your direction, and they nod curtly. 

You shift uncomfortably on your seat. One of the drawbacks to going undercover is that it leaves you weaponless. You had pleaded to at least keep a knife on you, something with which you could defend yourself, but Hange had warned against it.

“You’re supposed to be nothing more than a regular civilian,” they had cautioned. “If they find a weapon on you, that’s the easiest way to raise suspicion. They’ll kill you without a doubt.”

The bartender steps away from the table, making his way toward you, and you force yourself to relax as he approaches. “There’s a table back there,” he says, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. “Nothin’ too scary, I promise, they just wanna ask you a couple questions.”

“Alright,” you say, pushing off the stool. As you walk across the room, you see the bartender quickly head over to the door, where he flips the sign to ‘closed’.

The pair at the table wait expectantly as you settle yourself across from them. 

“Hi, there,” the man says, far too cheerily than the situation called for. He looks kind, but his eyes glitter with intelligence. You make a mental note not to underestimate him. “I’m Armin, and this is Mikasa.” He gestures to the dark-haired woman next to him, who nods at you. 

You introduce yourself in turn, noting that this feels more like an awkward job interview than an initiation. 

Mikasa studies you, expressionless. “So, what’s your story?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What she means is,” Armin explains, “not many people just stroll in asking to join. You do know what you’re getting into, don’t you?” He glances around the room, which is empty apart from the three of you and the man behind the bar, who is watching surreptitiously.

“I’ve heard a few things,” you admit. “Nothing too specific, though.”

“What kind of things?”

“That you give money and shelter in return for work. The work...wasn’t exactly specified.” 

“And you still want to join?”

You clench your fists under the table. You can do this. You practiced for this. The best cover story is one that has elements of the truth in it, you recall from training. Hange and Levi had spent hours drilling your fake backstory into your head. Time to put it to use.

“I’m desperate. Money’s been kind of tight lately,” you say. True.

Mikasa tilts her head. “What about your family?”

“Don’t have any,” you say. Also true. 

“And there aren’t any other jobs you’d prefer?”

You shake your head. “No one’s willing to hire me.” Now that was a lie. Your resume is quite extensive -- it had to be, to land you a job at the Smith Detective Agency -- but you aren’t about to tell them that. “My background isn’t exactly squeaky clean.” Another lie. If one were to look up law-abiding citizen in the dictionary, your name would be printed as the definition.

Mikasa exchanges a look with Armin, who places his elbows on the table, leaning forward. 

“We’re going to be straight with you,” he says. “You won’t find the benefits of a cushy office job here. The things we do are illegal. You won’t have to do anything too bad if you don’t want to, but you certainly won’t be an innocent civilian anymore. So, the real question is, what are you willing to do?”

You swallow heavily. “Whatever it takes.”

Armin looks satisfied. “Alright, I’ve heard enough,” he says. He slides out of the booth, gesturing for you and Mikasa to do the same. Seeing him rise, the bartender makes his way over as well. 

“Wait,” you say, “that’s it? Don’t you wanna do some kind of, I don’t know, blood ritual or something?”

To your surprise, he laughs. “What kind of people do you think we are? There’s none of that here. If you want in, you’re in. You’ll get an opportunity to prove your loyalty, don’t worry.”

You were definitely not looking forward to whatever that entails.

“Jean,” Armin says, addressing the bartender. “Take her to the safe house. Mikasa and I are on surveillance tonight, so we’ll be back late.”

Jean nods. “Leave your car in the parking lot,” he says to you. “We’ll take mine. Now that you’re one of us, you gotta avoid being tracked whenever you can.”

“Tracked?” you ask, eyes widening.

“Ah, shit, I shouldn’t have said anything. You don’t scare easily, do you, newbie?”

Yesterday your answer would have been no, but now you aren’t so sure. 

Jean leads you out back, where a shabby-looking gray car is parked. 

“It’s pretty average looking, right?” he says. “Easier to blend in that way.”

You frown. “How come we had to leave my car? Can’t yours be tracked too?”

“Nope,” he chuckles. “Mine’s got fake plates.”

Not for the first time, you wonder just what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.

* * *

If you had passed the safe house, you certainly wouldn’t have looked twice at it. It’s just an average house on the street, with brightly lit windows and a nicely trimmed lawn. You can make out figures moving behind the sheer curtains. Certainly not a place one would expect a gang to be living.

“Nice, huh?” Jean says as he parks in the driveway. “Come on, we’ll clear a room for you. You don’t have much stuff with you, right? That shouldn’t be a problem, we’ll send someone to get clothes and things for ya.”

“So, you all just live here together?” you ask.

Jean’s face turns grave for a moment. “Most of us, we don’t have a family or nothin’ like that. Nowhere else to go. We grew up on the streets, didn’t even go to school like other kids did. All we got is each other.” There’s a pause, before he shakes himself out of his stupor. “Let’s go inside. Everyone should still be awake.”

You follow closely behind, scrutinizing your surroundings for any information that could be passed along to Levi and Hange. They had given you a burner phone, which was currently shoved deep inside your pocket. Any information you could find was to be given to them immediately. You had been worried about keeping it hidden, but it seems like searching you isn’t a priority. 

“Oi, Sasha!” Jean calls, pushing open the front door. “Get your hands out of my chips and go find some clothes for the newbie.”

Sasha whines in protest, shoving more chips into her mouth. “I went grocery shopping this morning, make someone else do it!”

The man next to her pokes her side teasingly. “Watch out, Sash. Better do as you're told or Jean’ll get mad.”

Jean turns to you. “These two fools are Sasha and Connie,” he says, ignoring their matching looks of outrage. “They do most of the grunt work around here -- shopping, deliveries, things like that. If you need anything, just ask one of them.”

“Oh, who’s this?” Connie pipes up. “A new member?”

Jean nods, introducing you. “Picked her up at the bar.”

“Wow, Jean boy, look at you go! You’re all grown up, picking up girls and everything,” Sasha exclaims, wiping a fake tear from her eye. 

“Shut up, Sasha!”

“But I have to wonder,” she continues, “what do you think Boss’ll say if he knew you were using your time to get dates?”

“Like I care what that fucker thinks of me,” Jean mutters, but you notice him stiffen at her words.

Interesting. Seemed like whoever this ‘boss’ is, they have quite a hold on everyone. You’re itching to ask about them, but stop yourself, thinking that might be too suspicious. Instead, you store the information away for future use. 

As they continue to argue, you busy yourself with scanning the room. There’s a couch, on which Sasha and Connie are seated, a large television to the side, and a doorway that probably leads to the kitchen. In the corner of the room sits a large wooden desk. Bingo. Its drawers look promising -- that’s probably the best place to search for clues. 

Distracted by your thoughts, you don’t notice Sasha calling your name. “Sorry, what was that?” you ask.

“I was just saying, if you want I can take ya upstairs to get settled in and stuff,” she says, standing.

“Oh, sure.” Bidding farewell to Jean and Connie, you follow Sasha around the corner and up a staircase. “So, just one question, what exactly am I gonna be doing?”

“Basically everything,” she says. “Whatever Boss wants us to do. It changes day to day -- some days it might be deliveries, some days you’ll come along on a deal. The only thing we really take seriously round here is loyalty.”

“Loyalty?”

“Mhm.” Sasha turns to face you. “Don’t betray the Jaegerists, and in return, they’ll take care of ya. We aren’t too big on rules and stuff.” She finally stops in front of a door at the end of the hallway. “This is your room! It might be kinda messy, sorry ‘bout that. My room’s right next door, so knock if ya need anything.”

“Thanks, Sasha,” you say. She grins widely at you, waving as she heads back in the direction you came. 

The room is nothing special, just a spare bed and dresser. Sighing heavily, you sit on the edge of the mattress, head in your hands. Now, there’s nothing to do but wait.

* * *

Once you can no longer hear footsteps, you know it’s time. Slowly pushing open your door, you make your way down the hall. 

Creeping down the stairs, you breathe a sigh of relief upon finding the room empty. You make a beeline for the desk you had seen earlier. 

Carefully sorting through the stacks of papers inside, you scan them for any importance. There’s a piece of paper with a list of addresses on it -- most likely the locations of their other safe houses. Setting that aside, you continue. Inside another drawer, you find a booklet. It seems to be a log of received payments -- your eyes widen at the amount of money written on it -- but you can’t understand what exactly they’re for. 

“Come on,” you mutter under your breath, tossing it aside. All you need is something, anything that would hint at who the next victim was. 

You’re so encaptured with searching that you don’t register the sound of footsteps coming from behind you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Resisting the urge to yelp in surprise, you slowly turn. A man leans against the doorframe. Crossing his arms, he gives you a once-over, something like amusement dancing in his teal eyes.

You know you should defend yourself, maybe give an excuse for why you’re there, but the only words that come out of your mouth are “Who are you?”

“I guess you could say I’m the boss around here,” he says, smirking. “You can call me Eren.”

Fuck. You were hoping not to run into anyone, and instead, you got found by the leader of the Jaegerists himself.

You are so fucking screwed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i know the jaegerists are supposed to be this super scary mob but it just gives me so much serotonin that they all just live in a big house together and screw around all day lmaooo
> 
> thanks for reading! and thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter, I really appreciate your kind words! (and to everyone who's here from 'what lies underneath', welcome!)


	3. Flare Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a hot minute since i've updated, mostly because I've been binging part 5 of jojo's. on the plus side, passione is giving me a lot of inspiration for the jaegerists!
> 
> hope you all are doing well, and I hope you enjoy! :)

Eren’s footsteps, slow and measured, echo through the silent room.

“I’ll ask again,” he says, eyes fixed onto yours. You’re vaguely reminded of a panther, circling its cornered prey. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I was just--” you stumble, trying to think of a cover story. “I couldn’t sleep, and I just wanted to look around. Sorry, I know I shouldn’t be here -- I’ll just go to bed now.”

You attempt to sidestep him, but Eren simply extends an arm, blocking your escape. “Wait.” Studying you for a moment, he gestures towards the plush leather couch behind him. “Sit down.”

You certainly aren't about to argue. Scrambling over, you drop onto the cushions, making sure to keep your eyes on him. Even though it’s the middle of the night, and he’s in his own safe house, you aren’t stupid enough to think he doesn’t have a weapon on him. You keep your back straight as a board, ready to bolt at any given second.

Eren slowly saunters over, falling into the armchair opposite you. He stretches his long legs out in front of him, and one arm comes to drape itself along the back of his chair, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“I’m impressed,” he begins, “not many newbies are brave enough to snoop through the place.”

“I wasn’t snooping,” you defend. 

He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Oh? Then what exactly were you doing with those papers?”

“I was just...looking around,” you finish lamely, looking away.

Fuck. This is it. He’s going to, without a doubt, kill you. Instead, he does something even more surprising.

He laughs. 

You stare at him, eyes widened, as he struggles to compose himself. “Relax,” he says, “I’m just messing with you.”

“Huh?”

“You’re one of us now, aren’t you? This is your house now, too. Go wherever you want.”

The genuine amusement on his face is contagious, and you relax minutely on the couch. “Isn’t that kind of risky?” you ask. “Letting me have free reign of the place? You don’t even know me.”

“Ah, but you’re assuming I have something to hide,” he says, far too smug for your liking. Something about him is rubbing you the wrong way. Almost as if he’s challenging you -- to do what, you aren’t sure.

“Everyone has something to hide,” you scoff. He’s a criminal -- his entire life revolves around secrets. Secrets that you’re determined to find. 

Eren leans forward, like you’d sparked his interest. “Oh, yeah? And what about you, newbie? What do you have to hide?”

You fight to keep a straight face, hoping he can’t hear the way your breath hitches. “Nothing interesting,” you say flippantly.

“I doubt that,” he says, eyes narrowing with interest. “They told me about you. How you walked right into the bar and asked to join. We haven’t had anyone do that,  _ ever _ . I’d say that’s pretty damn interesting.”

He looks like he wants to press further, but you have to stop him, fast. The last thing you need is him looking more closely into exactly what secrets you’re hiding. 

“I’ve heard of you, too,” you say in retaliation, hackles raised. “The feared mob boss of the Jaegerists, who asks for nothing but loyalty from his subordinates.”

Eren hums in acknowledgement. “That’s right. And you’ve pledged your loyalty to me, haven’t you?”

He leans further forward, getting far too close to you for your liking. You back up as far as you can on the couch. “What if I say no?”

“Oh, I don’t worry about that,” he murmurs, his eyes dragging over you. “I can be very...convincing.”

His gaze is too knowing -- he’s getting under your skin far too quickly. The best course of action seems to be to put some distance between you and him. You have to get out of here. 

“It’s getting late,” you say, moving to stand. “I should get back to my room.”

You half expect him to stop you again, but he simply inclines his head in agreement.

“Have a nice night, newbie,” he says, voice nearly dripping with mirth. “Sweet dreams.”

After the talk you had with him, your dreams certainly won’t be sweet.

* * *

You wake up the next morning to someone pounding on your door. Blinking your tired eyes open, you blearily stumble over to the door, throwing it open. You don’t recognize the man standing before you, but the annoyance on his face is plain as day.

“Hurry up,” he snaps, “meeting downstairs in five minutes.”

Without another word, he turns and heads down the hall. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you trail behind him. He seems to be a real charmer. 

You follow him down the stairs to the same room you had been in last night. Everyone’s piled onto the couches, seemingly waiting for something. You take a seat on the edge of the couch, next to Sasha, who is predictably chowing down on a bag of chips. A strange choice for breakfast, but you aren’t one to judge.

“Want some?” she offers to you.

“No thanks,” you say, shaking your head. “So what’s this meeting about anyway?”

Swallowing her mouthful of chips, she leans towards you. “I heard Armin talkin’ yesterday about how he got some kind of secret message from someone askin’ to meet. Dunno what it is, but I don’t think it’s our usual kind of meeting.”

Sasha glances at something behind you, and you turn to see Armin walking in, Mikasa following closely behind him.

“Is Eren not coming?” you whisper to Sasha. 

Perhaps that wasn’t the right thing to say. Her head swings in your direction, owl-like eyes boring into yours. “Eren?” she asks. After a beat, she seems to understand. “Oh, you mean the boss? Nah, he doesn’t usually hang out with us or anything. We just see him during missions if he comes along.”

Oh no. He had seemed awfully interested in you the night before -- did he suspect something? You resolve to not spend any more time around Eren than you have to. 

Armin walks to the front of the room, facing everyone. He clears his throat, drawing your attention. 

“Alright,” he begins, “we’ve got a meeting tonight at the bar.”

“Who with?” Jean asks. 

“Rod Reiss.”

At Armin’s words, a collection of groans rise up throughout the room. Confused, you turn to Sasha, who’s groan had rung out the loudest of all.

“Who’s Rod Reiss?” you whisper.

“Ugh, he’s the worst,” she says. “He’s this real seedy politician who keeps tryin’ to get us to do his dirty work. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he pays pretty well, but he’s nosy as fuck. Can’t keep out of our business.” 

Raising her voice, she addresses Armin. “What does he want this time?”

“He didn’t say,” Armin replies. “ Just that he wanted to talk. He said he’ll explain in person, so we’re expecting that negotiations will take place. He didn’t say anything about coming alone, so we’re bringing a group.”

“Tell him to fuck off!”

Armin narrows his eyes. “Just for that, Sasha, you’re coming tonight.” He raises his voice, speaking above her whines. “Jean, Connie, Mikasa, you guys are coming too. And…” he breaks off, searching the room until his eyes meet yours. “You’re coming too.”

Your eyes widen. “Me?”

You’re about to ask why, when a scathing voice rings out from the other side of the room. “The fuck?” You recognize him as the same one who had come by your room that morning.

Armin pauses, glancing over at him. “Is there a problem, Floch?”

“Yeah, there’s a problem! I should get to go. At least I’ll be useful,” he spits, throwing you a venomous look. “I mean, who trusts a stray they picked up at the bar? For all we know, she could be here to kill us!”

You can’t even find it in you to be offended, not with how close he is to the truth.

“Floch, that’s enough,” Armin says. The exasperated look on his face tells you this isn’t the first time he’s done this. “She’s been vetted, she’s been cleared, and she’s one of us now. Besides, she was personally chosen for tonight by the boss -- you want to question his decision?”

Floch scoffs, the sour look on his face persisting, but he holds his tongue.

“Alright,” Armin continues, “if that’s all, then you’re dismissed. Meet down here tonight.”

As the people gathered in the room begin to disperse, Sasha leans in again. “Don’t worry about Floch. He’s always a little...aggressive to new members.”

“How come?” you question. It’s a little comforting to know that this is a regular occurrence, but the hatred he displayed seemed genuine. 

“Who knows?” Sasha says, rolling her eyes. “He thinks he’s the boss’s little lapdog, even though he’s only talked to the guy like twice. Just ignore him, that’s what the rest of us do.”

Terrific. Now there are two people for you to avoid.

* * *

That night finds you standing in the corner of the bar, arms crossed, trying your best not to look as panicked as you feel. 

To his credit, Armin had done his best to soothe your worries. “I know you’re new,” he said, “so you won’t have to do anything. This is mostly just so that you can see how negotiations work. Nothing more to it.”

You hadn’t missed the guns everyone had tucked into their waistbands. Not exactly needed for a simple negotiation.

It also didn’t help that the one person you were trying to steer clear of was tagging along tonight. It was difficult to hide the panic you had felt upon seeing Eren waiting for you at the foot of the stairs. Everyone else had seemed just as surprised as you.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” Mikasa had said.

“Changed my mind,” he shrugged. “Thought I might as well join you guys, help keep an eye on things.”

Now, as he lounges on a bar stool, looking far too relaxed for the situation, he tosses an amused glance your way.

“Nervous?”

“Should I be?” you shoot back.

Eren chuckles, the corners of his lips pulling upwards. He opens his mouth to speak, but the sound of the bar door opening breaks through the silence. As he turns away from you, you breathe out a sigh of relief. 

A man you assume to be Rod Reiss walks in, accompanied by several men who can’t be anything other than bodyguards, with their large statures and defensive postures. 

As Reiss approaches, Eren’s posture changes, back straightening up on the stool. He’s poised like a cobra, ready to strike at any moment. The look on his face is dangerous -- he looks every part the feared mob leader he was rumored to be.

As if responding to him, the rest of the Jaegerists shift into defensive postures as well. The tension in the room is palpable, and you fight to hold still.

“Mr. Reiss,” Eren says silkily, “thank you for coming. Unfortunately, your message didn’t quite specify your intentions behind this meeting.”

“Simply to have a conversation,” Reiss replies quietly. “I wasn't expecting you to personally show up, however. May I sit down?”

Eren studies him for a moment before waving Jean forward, who drags a chair to the middle of the room.

“Thank you,” Reiss says, taking a seat. 

“Not many people drag us out for just a conversation,” Eren remarks, eyes narrowing. “I don’t appreciate people who waste my time, you know.” A sharp edge under his velvet words, the threat in his words is all too evident. 

Reiss looks unphased, however. “You Jaegerists value family, do you not? Today, I wish to tell you about mine.”

At his words, a ripple of confusion goes through the room. You frown at Sasha, head tilted in a silent question, but she simply shrugs in response. 

Without waiting for Eren’s response, Reiss begins. “You’ve seen my family before on the news, I presume?”

After a moment, in which it seems Reiss wouldn’t continue without a response, Eren relents. “A wife and five kids? I’ve seen them.”

“I spent a lot of time with them over the years,” Reiss says. “Even though politics demanded a lot of me, I always made sure to give them the love and attention they deserved. Especially my oldest daughter, Frieda. She was set to take over my position in a few years, you know. I was so proud of her.”

Eren narrows his eyes. “’Was?’”

Reiss nods, a mournful look on his face. “She was my pride and joy.”

“That’s a wonderful story,” Eren remarks. The impatience in his tone is growing more evident. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“As I said before, you Jaegerists value family. As do I.” The look on his face suddenly changes into something sinister, a wild look in his eye. “You took my family away from me. It seems only fitting that I take yours.”

You realize his meaning a moment too late. Eren springs to his feet, reaching into his waistband, and that seems to be the signal to attack. You see Mikasa across the room react the fastest, immediately firing shots at Reiss’s bodyguards, who retaliate. One comes forward to shield Reiss from the onslaught.

Too late, you remember that you’re the only one who is unarmed. You barely have a chance to move before one of Reiss’s bodyguards lunges towards you, and you’re staring down the barrel of his gun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! as always, comments are much appreciated <33


	4. Short Fuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is in the tags, but I just wanted to give some chapter-specific warnings. a character does die in this chapter, there's some fighting, some blood, gun violence, and the reader does panic a bit (I'm hesitant to call it a panic attack, but there is definitely some shock and stuff) so if any of that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to exit out!
> 
> also if some stuff looks weird, it's because I went through and changed this fic into present-tense! i tried my best to change all of it, but if I missed something, please don't hesitate to let me know!
> 
> enjoy! <3

Instinct kicks in before fear does.  
  
Your body easily falls into the motions that were drilled into you at the academy, and your foot swings up, kicking the gun out of the man’s hand. His face twists in outrage, and he lunges for you, backhanding you forcefully across the face. The blow stuns you for a moment, little white spots dancing in the corner of your vision. Fighting to stay focused, you manage to dodge his next blow, ducking under his arm to come behind him.   
  
The steps for applying a chokehold flash through your mind. Throwing one arm around his exposed neck, you bring your other hand behind his head to lock him in. Using the entirety of your strength, you squeeze your arms as tight as you can. Within seconds, he slumps to the ground, unconscious.   
  
The fight ends almost as soon as it started. A quick glance around the room shows that the other bodyguards have been taken care of, including the one who had been protecting Reiss.   
  
Eren takes a few steps forward, anger flowing off him in waves. The look of panic on Reiss’s face is well-deserved.   
  
“You have ten seconds,” Eren snarls. The other Jaegerists quickly form a circle around Reiss, blocking his escape. “Explain yourself.”  
  
“I don’t have to explain anything to the likes of you,” Reiss says. He makes a move for his gun, and the next thing you register is the sound of a single gunshot. Before your eyes, Reiss crumples, the look of shock frozen on his face. He falls to the ground, a pool of blood spreading out from the single bullet wound Eren put in his head.  
  
Eren doesn’t even pause, barely phased by what he just did. “Is everyone all right?” he demands, eyes surveying the room. Everyone responds with vague noises of acknowledgment, but you’re fixed in place. His voice sounds like it’s coming from miles away. All you can see is Reiss’s body lying before you, the life leaving his eyes in an instant, the ringing of the gunshot still reverberating through your ears.   
  
You vaguely register movement around you, before a pair of hands gently grip your shoulders. “Hey,” Eren says softly, stepping before you. Your view of the body is blocked by a pair of concerned green eyes. “Look at me. Are you alright, newbie? Come on, I need you to breathe.”  
  
You hadn't even realized you weren’t. Struggling, you try to follow his instructions, making an effort to focus on his words, the sound of his voice, the scent of his cologne.  
  
“That’s it,” he says in response to the deep breath you take. “In and out, just like that. I’m sorry, I know this was a lot for your first mission.” Studying your face closely, his eyes suddenly darken with rage. “You’re hurt.”  
  
Your tongue runs over your bottom lip, recoiling at the metallic taste of blood. The man must have hit you harder than you thought.  
  
Grabbing your face, he gently rubs his thumb over your lips. “Mikasa,” he growls out, tone contrasting with the fragility with which he holds you. “Dispose of them.”  
  
She rushes to do as told, and the rest of them follow, leaving you alone with Eren.  
  
After a few more breaths, you’re finally composed enough to look up at him. “Why?” you breathe out. “Why did you--”  
  
“I had to,” he cuts you off. “People like that are a disease. They’re not even human -- it’s like putting down a rabid dog.”  
  
A voice echoes in your head, repeating Hange’s words. _Cause of death seems to be pretty simple_ , they had said about Dimo Reeves. _A bullet was lodged in his skull._ Your eyes are locked onto the bullet wound in Reiss’s head. You don’t want to believe it, but is it true? Is the murderer you’ve been looking for the one comforting you right now?   


* * *

  
The door to your room has barely closed behind you before you wrench your mattress up off the bed, grabbing the burner phone you had previously stashed away.  
  
Shaking fingers dial the number Hange had given you, and you wait with bated breath for a voice at the other end. They pick up almost instantly.  
  
“What happened?” they demand. “Did you find anything?”  
  
The words feel trapped in your mouth. “Dimo Reeves,” you choke out, “he’s dead.”  
  
You hear the slight sound of a scuffle through the phone before Levi’s annoyed voice comes through. “Put it on speaker, four-eyes,” he grumbles.  
  
“What? Are you sure?” Hange asks after obliging.  
  
“I was there,” you reply.   
  
Hange stays silent for a moment, before hesitantly speaking up. “Are you alright?”  
  
Honestly, you aren’t quite sure yourself. “It doesn’t matter,” you stress. “This is proof, right? The Jaegerists are the ones behind the murders!”  
  
Levi clears his throat. “Who did it?”  
  
You listen carefully for any sign of footsteps outside your door, before whispering into the phone. “The leader. His name’s Eren -- that’s all I know about him.”  
  
“Eren…” Hange mumbles thoughtfully. You hear the sound of fingers clicking loudly on a keyboard before they speak up again. “There’s no record of an Eren in the system.”  
  
“That’s to be expected,” Levi says. “If the Jaegerists themselves have never been caught, it would make sense that the leader stays in the shadows. Was there any particular motive you could see?”  
  
Carefully, you run your fingers over the floral bedspread, choosing your next words carefully. “Well, it was the same as the other murders, with the bullet in the head, but if I’m being honest, he killed Reiss out of self-defense.”  
  
“What?” Levi asks sharply. “Are you sure?”  
  
“Yeah, Reiss said he wanted revenge because the Jaegerists killed his daughter,” you say. “I think her name was Frieda?”  
  
Some more keyboard clicking. “Frieda Reiss,” Hange says. “Found dead two weeks ago, bullet wound in her head. It says here that Reiss paid off the press to keep it quiet.”  
  
“Wait,” Levi interjects, “how did Reiss know it was the Jaegerists? He piss ‘em off or something?”  
  
“All I heard is that they said he’s nosy,” you say. “But apparently he paid pretty well.”  
  
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Hange says. “If he paid well, why would they kill his daughter?”  
  
“Maybe he found out something he wasn’t supposed to,” Levi replies. “Something about the murders or their business operations or something.”  
  
There’s a contemplative pause before Hange speaks up again. “Alright, well, it’s a start,” they say. “We’ll keep doing some research from our end. You got some good evidence, kid, keep it up. And for the love of God, be careful, alright? Me and Levi, we worry about ya.”  
  
Levi attempts to protest, but you pay it no mind. “I will. I’ll call you back when I find something else.”  
  
As you hang up, you try not to let the dread creep up from the back of your mind. Just finding this one piece of information had almost cost you your life. Any more, and you’d be dead for sure.  


* * *

  
Sleep evades you that night.  
  
Every time you try to close your eyes, the image of Reiss’s lifeless body comes to mind. His lifeless eyes, his last gasped breaths -- they keep playing through your head.  
  
It’s far past midnight when you finally give up, padding out of bed and downstairs in hope of some distraction. The sound of voices comes from the dining room, and you find Armin and Mikasa deep in conversation, a pot of tea between them.   
  
“Hey,” Armin speaks up, beckoning you over. “Come join us! We were going to check on you earlier, but we figured you’d probably want to be alone for a bit.”  
  
You move to sit at the table, and Mikasa pours a cup of tea, sliding it over to you. The scent of chamomile washes over you, calming you down almost instantly. “You didn’t have to do that -- I’m sure you guys have better things to do.”  
  
Mikasa eyes you, concerned. “We take care of each other,” she says simply.  
  
“By the way, you were pretty impressive today,” Armin says. “You handled yourself well out there.”  
  
Nodding, Mikasa shoots you an appreciative look. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”  
  
You rack your brain for an excuse, calling upon your made-up background. “Oh, I grew up on the streets,” you say, hoping it sounds convincing enough. “I kind of had to learn, I guess.”  
  
Armin nods sympathetically. “That makes sense,” he murmurs, “that’s how a lot of us learned as well.”  
  
You give him a questioning glance, and he continues. “Well, I didn’t. I was never that good at living on my own, and I didn’t know how to fight until Mikasa taught me to. I’m convinced she was born with her fists clenched.”  
  
Mikasa huffs out a laugh, the corners of her lips curling up with amusement.  
  
“We like to give everyone some basic tips when they join,” Armin says. “You know, how to defend themself, how to shoot a gun, things like that. But I guess you’ve got that covered.”  
  
“To be honest, I could use some help with shooting a gun,” you admit. “I’ve never done that before.” You’re a bit hesitant about admitting your weaknesses to them, but if they’re offering, you’ll take all the help you can get. You ignore the small part of your brain that says you might be able to use that knowledge against them.  
  
“We’ll get someone to teach you,” Mikasa replies.   
  
You take a sip of tea, before breaking the silence hesitantly. “So if most of you guys grew up on the streets,” you begin, “what about Eren? He seems a little…”  
  
“Intense?” Mikasa finishes. “Yeah, he can get like that sometimes.”  
  
Armin pauses as if choosing his next words carefully. “Eren’s had a hard life,” he explains. “Harder than the rest of ours. I think that intensity is the only way he knows how to deal with it.” He glances at Mikasa. “Speaking of, is he alright? I haven’t seen him since we got back.”  
  
“He’s shut up in his room upstairs,” she says, running a hand through her hair. “Sasha said he didn’t even eat dinner. He’s probably looking into the whole situation with Reiss.”  
  
“Makes sense,” Armin agrees, “I was thinking about doing some digging myself.”  
  
“Sorry,” you break in, feeling like you were missing something. “About what?”  
  
They exchange a glance. “We weren’t really planning on telling anyone,” Armin begins. “It’s still kind of up in the air, and to be honest, we’re not completely sure what’s going on either.”  
  
“Armin,” Mikasa speaks up. “She almost got shot. I think she deserves to know.”  
  
“Know what?” you ask, glancing between them.  
  
He sighs heavily. “We have no idea why Reiss was after us.”  
  
“What? But I thought it was because Frieda-”  
  
“We didn’t kill Frieda,” Mikasa cuts you off. “If we had a problem with Reiss, we would have dealt with him directly. Innocent civilians aren’t our targets.”  
  
Your eyes widen, thoughts running a mile a minute. “So if you guys didn’t kill Frieda, but Reiss thought you did, then…”  
  
Armin nods gravely. “Someone’s framing the Jaegerists. And we need to find out who.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! and a big thank you to everyone who's been leaving such sweet comments!! it's such a joy to interact with all of you, and I couldn't be more grateful <33

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! as always, constructive feedback is very much welcome!  
> if you ever want to request something, chat about a fic, or just come say hi, you can find me on [tumblr](https://abswrites.tumblr.com/) under the same name :)


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